Federation Starship Avatar and the Intergalactic Adventure
by moor
Summary: Zutara/Bluetara. Star Trek AU. In which Katara is the good doctor, Jet is the daring captain, Zuko is a Klingon and Aang is the Federation starship Avatar. Rated T for themes.
1. Chapter 1

Jet grabbed her sleeve, leaning intimately into her as she passed—and blocked her way, sliding his foot between hers with smooth grace.

"You can't trust him."

Jet's minty breath contrasted with the open captain's jacket he wore around his shoulders, his medals always pin-straight in order on his chest in comparison. He was so proud of those medals of honour.

They made Katara want to scoff.

 _If only others knew how he'd truly obtained them..._

Katara's azure eyes sharpened as she focused on the blue-masked man the crew had quarantined in their sick bay. The captain and his away party came across him during an exploratory visit to the surface of Eleron, injured and unconscious, soaking in a puddle of (his own?) blood. He woke during transportation to their starship, and Captain Jet had decided it was better to sedate him 'manually', for everyone's safety. Now he was awake and confined to her sick bay, though no one was sure how lucid he was… or even who he was. The man had resisted dangerously when approached or asked to remove the strange blue mask he wore.

For now, the stranger was hunched over, one arm bracing himself while the other wrapped around his seeping middle. Possibly holding in his own guts.

Katara would have rolled her eyes at the display of practiced nonchalance while slowly bleeding to death... if she hadn't been so pissed off at her Captain at that point.

"I'm here to heal him, Jet. Back off."

She turned to the side to step around him, but he grabbed her forearm firmly.

Unbeknownst to Jet, behind him their patient-slash-prisoner's shoulders tensed as he watched them.

Her lips pressing together in a fine line, Katara glared up at Jet and jerked her arm free.

"Get out of my sick bay," she commanded.

"I'll be watching you," taunted Jet, the familiar scrap of compressed aluminium poking obstinately from between his lips.

With exaggerated movements he lifted his hands free of her and backed away towards the exit. His chestnut eyes never left her and burned holes in Katara's back as she approached her patient.

For her part Katara ignored him, her entire focus on the man bleeding through his haphazard bandages onto the elevated med-stasis bed.

"Can you fill me in on what happened, or do I need to check for myself?" she asked her patient, standing between his knees.

She lifted her tricorder, glancing between his bloody, torn clothes and the readings her scanner fed her. Her brows knit as the readings returned more and more serious.

"... anemia, heavy blood loss, heme level is at an eight instead of a healthy thirty two, or I'd even accept in the twenties, but an eight, as in single digits… severe contusions around your liver and kidneys… impact fractures in your left arm and leg near the…"

She looked up at him, nostrils flaring with anger.

"How are you still conscious?" she demanded, jamming her thumb down on the EMERG button on her tricorder. A faint beeping began to chime over the address system in the med bay, summoning aids and triage kits.

Frustrated at the man's lack of response, Katara gestured wildly in the air, the tricorder's diagnostics fading for a moment before returning full-force when they passed by her patient's increasingly leaning body.

"Is this a joke? Because I have had it up to _here_ with patriarchal macho 'I'm too strong, I don't need medical assistance'-bullshit, and having to wait for nimrods like you to pass out and practically _die on me_ before I can get close enough to assist you, and in case you haven't noticed, I have to deal with that on a daily basis outside my med bay, so if you're going to be a—"

The man wove to one side, then the other, like a slow pendulum gaining momentum.

"—can't believe he hit you to knock you out instead of sedating you. Though considering your condition, it may have almost saved you, but don't tell _him_ that, since I'll never hear the end of it. But they again went went on an away mission without taking a medic and I can't believe—"

Behind Katara an intern parked one of the triage kits full of instruments and medications. Katara turned around to grab a laser-cutter to split the man's clothing and remove it from him when she felt a heavy weight slump against her back.

A heavy, wet weight.

—That soaked straight through her uniform.

She swore under her breath.

(She'd just received this particular uniform back from the hospitality deck.)

* * *

"No you're not."

Jet glared at Katara from across her desk. Two members of his security team, Longshot and Smellerbee, stood behind him… closer to the door.

"Care to repeat that, doctor?"

Katara leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"I just stabilized him an hour ago. No, you aren't interrogating him. He needs to rest."

"That man could be a rebel spy; he could be part of the anti-Federation—"

"He's unconscious, Jet. He isn't going anywhere to telling anyone anything."

"Did you remove his mask?"

"There was no need."

Jet's eyes narrowed.

"You're lying."

Yes, she was, partly to protect the man in her care but mostly to irritate Jet. To further that end, she smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't tell you how to run your bridge. You don't tell me how to run my sick bay."

To no one's surprise, Jet's lip curled in a perverse smirk as he looked Katara up and down.

"I'd be happy to tell you how to run a diagnostic on—"

"Sexual harassment is not tolerated on this starship, Captain," said Katara in clipped tones.

Jet's eyelids dipped to half-mast as he held Katara's gaze.

"Not _anymore_ ," he murmured, his two simple words lilting and dripping with shared history.

Katara leaned forward, placing her palms down on the desk and standing.

"...Need I remind you I am the only person on this ship who outranks you?" she asked softly, evenly, with a hint of silk-wrapped steel. "You step out of line with that prisoner—who for all we know is an ally—and I'll have you confined for psychiatric evaluation. And we both know which side of that evaluation you'd end up on," she whispered.

There they remained, on either side of Katara's gray, round-edged desk, in a silent, deadly stalemate until Smellerbee and Longshot shuffled their feet.

"Captain," interrupted Smellerbee. "We're being hailed by an Agni Kai ship."

"Agni Kai?" asked Jet, not turning away from Katara.

The Agni Kai were a people known for their honour-driven, power-hungry society… they could give the Klingons a run for their Darsek. Theirs was a patriarchy with a long family line, though there were rumours of unrest in recent years. They rarely ventured into this quadrant, however.

And they never engaged a Federation starship battlecruiser without a reason.

(And that reason was never in peace.)

"Whose ship?" he asked.

"... The Dragon of the West," said Longshot.

* * *

The stirring of bedsheet linens and the nearly soundless pressure of bare feet touching the ground alerted Katara to her patient's change in status.

"Before you walk, I'm checking you over," she said, setting down her chart and standing.

With that she turned and approached the bed, only to find the shirtless man touching his masked face with hesitant, confused movements.

"Yeah, it's still there," she said, resting her hip against the end of his bed. She flipped open her tricorder and ran the diagnostic around him as it beeped and echoed back at her with results. "You were pretty fierce about it. Even I haven't taken it off. Which reminds me, you need to go wash—it and your face and head. There are towels in the shower stall, and a stool if you need it."

The man looked at her through his mask, his hands now at his sides, a little away from his body.

A ready stance.

"I won't peek," added Katara, satisfied with the diagnostic.

Well, not entirely satisfied, but she could tell the man was spooked and needed his space. She kept her hands where he could see them.

"And the rest of the crew is pretty busy up on the bridge with our guest at the moment, so it's better to do it now than when they get curious about you again."

He waited a moment before looking around.

"To your left," said Katara, gesturing behind her. She ratcheted shut her tricorder, slipped it into her hip holster and waited for him to make a move.

Like a wary animal, he shifted his weight foot to foot but did not turn his body away from hers.

She wanted to sigh, but couldn't blame him for being cautious considering the 'welcome' her Captain had given him.

She held out her hand.

"I'm Doctor Kuruk, by the way. Katara Kuruk. Lead physician aboard the Federation starship _Avatar_."

He looked down at her hand.

She waited a beat, then two. Her smile wilting, she pulled her hand back only to feel a gentle pressure against the inside of her wrist.

Her patient had taken the inside of her right forearm and clasped it against his.

She tilted her head before looking up at him and smiling.

"It's been a long time since I've seen that," she admitted, gently and slowly clapping her left hand over his right arm and holding it there in a traditional Water Tribe greeting.

"A very long time," she added wistfully.

He nodded, and looked towards the bathroom she indicated a moment before.

"This way," she said, releasing him after another half-beat of contact and leading him to the showers. "You can clean yourself up privately."

With her back turned, she missed the way he studied her back with care.

* * *

 ** _Meanwhile, in the Captain's Study_**

"Missing?" repeated Jet.

General Iroh, the 'Dragon of the West', nodded sadly over the aromatic steam of his jasmine tea.

"Yes. We have not heard from him in days. His family… I grow concerned," said the General. "Prince Zuko is an accomplished warrior in his own right. This maintained silence is unusual."

Jet glanced at the amber liquid in his tumblr, swirling it around before looking back at his guest.

"And you think he was headed in this direction?"

"Yes. He mentioned that he was coming this way, and that he would return shortly. When he did not return, we sent out search parties. I fear the worst," said the old man, rubbing his chin through his short, stocky silver beard.

"We are exploring this quadrant and the planets herein for the next while. We haven't encountered any member of the Royal Family," said Jet. "But we are happy to contact you if we come across any leads."

"I would be most appreciative," said the General with a small bow in Jet's direction.

"Please, it would be an honour to assist you," said Jet, the gears in his mind spinning wildly with his own agenda and plans.

If the Dragon of the West noticed the edge to Jet's words, he gave no outward sign.

* * *

Late that evening as she ran her evening rounds in the sick bay, the tricorder in Katara's holster chirped three times, then repeated itself again. A second later it did so again, more urgently.

Katara cursed under her breath.

"Thank you, Aang," she murmured under her breath, kissing her fingertips before touching the instrument panel beside her appreciatively.

From his bed, the mystery patient watched her.

Katara looked at him.

"Considering the beating you took earlier, and lived, you won't go down without a fight, will you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

The man scoffed under his breath, crossing his arms.

Her shoulder slumping as her brow arched, Katara couldn't help her rueful smirk.

"I didn't think so."

She looked around the sparse ward. There wasn't much time.

"Okay, time to hide in plain sight. Lie down and pretend you're asleep," she ordered, pulling out her tricorder and adjusting the settings and overriding them.

When he remained sitting upright, Katara gave him a poke in the chest.

"If you want to avoid being tortured as part of a half-assed 'interrogation', you need to lie back right now," she growled, pushing against him harder, with her full palm. "Down, boy."

To her surprise he caught her hand and held her wrist, gently, staring at her.

Then he brought her hand to his throat and cradled it there.

Anxiety trickling through her bloodstream at Jet's pending arrival and her patient's confusing gesture, Katara's brows knit.

"Your… your neck? Your throat—your voice. Is something wrong with your voice?"

He nodded.

Katara heard the doors on the far side of the sick bay swish open, the airlock hissing as they closed again. They were running out of time.

"You want me to heal your voice?" she whispered.

He nodded, and from beneath the mask she felt the fabric of the cloth head covering rub against the top of her hand where his chin brushed her fingers.

Katara bit the inside of her cheek and shoved him down with the hand holding the tricorder.

"Don't make a sound," she ordered, her tricorder beeping madly with the fluctuations of his heartbeat—until she muffled the speaker with her thumb, muting it.

Determined to arm and protect him with everything she could, she rushed the pulsing energy that flowed in her down to her arms and hands, closing her eyes. It was old healing 'magic', this, and few from her home planet even had the ability, let alone the skill, to manipulate it. It was draining and dangerous, and rushing was the worst thing she could do, but something about this man drew out her protective instincts and stirred her into action. Something about him held her focus and attention. Something about him reminded her of why, all those years ago, she left her home planet and ventured out to Starfleet Academy to become a starship medic and travel the stars to see the galaxy.

Something about him reminded her that she held her own rank, her own noble title and that yes, she was there to help and make a difference, even if it was only in one man's life.

She could do it.

Teeth clenched she focused, ignoring the sound of feet approaching while the cooling flowed from her fingertips into him.

As quickly as she could she knit the damaged tissues back together. Choked? Had he been choked, and part of his neck and throat were still damaged? She investigated further but was forced to pull back a bit as the curtain hiding her patient from semi-public view was torn to the side.

Behind her the shuffling of feet came closer, closer.

 _Come on, come on, come on_ , she thought, opening the gates of her healing chakra wider. Instead of soothing cool, a mild stinging, then burning took over. She would have burns on her fingers and palms after this but it would be worth it.

She stifled a wince as she felt the man beneath her hands tense from the force of the healing.

 _Please forgive me later_ , she thought in his direction.

And then she heard one of the guards behind her clear his throat.

"Something wrong, Doctor Kuruk?" drawled Jet.

Easing off, Katara straightened but didn't turn around.

"Damaged airway. It was affecting his breathing," she said.

"Did he wake up yet?"

"Not enough to answer questions."

"Funny, that's not what your intern said earlier."

"He hasn't said a word since he came to," said Katara.

A moment of silence passed.

"You wouldn't be lying to me, now would you, Dr Kuruk?"

Footsteps began circling her from behind, just outside the periphery of her vision.

The hand around her wrist, the hand she'd completely forgotten about, squeezed her tighter in warning.

 _I know_ , she thought his way. _Don't let them intimidate you. They can smell fear. Trust me._

"No, I'm focusing on my patient," she said. She forced her shoulders to relax.

"Hm. Yes. Your patient. Who doesn't speak. Who is a remarkable survivor. And who happens to share the build and colouring of the Agni Kai."

Katara swallowed the hitch in her breathing.

"Spit it out, Jet. What do you want?"

"That's 'Captain Jet'," he reminded her. Warmth seeped into her back and minty breath wafted over her shoulder and cheek. "And I want to have a chat with our guest."

" _He can't speak._ "

Jet pressed closer, his chest inches from Katara's back. He leaned his head over her shoulder to observe her healing before snorting.

"Someone ranks highly enough for you to use the tribal ways," he murmured knowingly. "Been a while since we saw that happen, huh?"

 _For good reason_ , thought Katara. Jet reminded her of so many unfortunate aspects of her past. Primarily, her poor decision-making when it came to trusting others and overestimating others' self control.

And self-discipline.

Some nights she still woke from nightmares and memories from when Jet was addicted to the tribal healing she used on him. She had nearly sworn off employing it after that, but refused to give up another of her traditions just because he had perverted its intentions. She had given him up, instead.

It didn't go well.

"Go away, Captain. He isn't in any shape to answer questions. Or live through an 'interrogation' session," repeated Katara.

"Well, perhaps he wasn't the one I came to question?"

Jet's chest bumped into Katara's back, and he lowered a hand to her hip to hold her steady.

"Perhaps," he continued, "I had a few questions for you. Like why you insisted we stop in this quadrant." His voice turned hard, his hand squeezing her side.

Katara's heart fluttered in her throat from a combination of anger, disgust and fear.

"I told you. I had a feeling," she hedged. The same feeling that had warned her of Jet's arrival.

The _Avatar_ spoke to her in mysterious ways. (She referred to the ship as 'Aang' in her mind. The name stuck.) She couldn't explain it, but she felt a kinship with this vessel. It was the only reason she hadn't abandoned it after her horrendous 'relationship' with Jet had ended on such a sour note, especially since Jet didn't seem keen on letting her go completely, either. More than once she'd packed her bags as they'd made port, and planned her escape. Something always came up, however, that prevented her from leaving.

It was Aang, the _Avatar_ , which had sent her signals to travel to this quadrant. She'd made up a flimsy reason about needing supplies for medical research, but when her last excuse had just about dried up they came across this mystery man.

Why Aang had directed her here, she didn't know.

But there had to be something going on, and it centered around this man faking sleep in her arms. With the visit from General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, Katara was even more sure that there was more going on than met the eye.

"Your 'feelings' have led to too many coincidences, Katara." He turned his head towards hers, lips caressing the shell of her ear. "We need to talk."

 _Control your breathing and don't tense up. He's trying to rattle your cage,_ she told herself, but when she felt his other hand settling on her other hip, her teeth clenched so hard they felt like they were about to crack inside her jaw.

"Let. Go."

"You're in cahoots with the Dragon of the West, aren't you? You're helping him somehow. Trafficking fugitives? Information? Blackmail? What is it, Katara?" demanded Jet, his voice getting louder and angrier with each ridiculous accusation.

"No."

"Don't lie to me, Katara," hissed Jet through his teeth. His spittle spat across Katara's cheek and she resisted the urge to wipe it away. "You know I don't like it when you _lie to me._ "

"You're paranoid and delusional. I have nothing to hide! I've been here in the sick bay all day. I spend every day here. I don't interact with anyone!" For their own safety at this point. "Now I need you to leave because I am trying to heal an injured man!"

"You set this up. You set everything up! This is a trap, isn't it? It's a trap for the _Avatar_. Well, no one's taking my ship away from me!"

"No one is trying to take the ship away from you," said Katara as Jet's eyes gleamed wildly, his control fraying. "No one set anything up. I wanted supplies, unfortunately my hunch that they would be here was wrong. I was wrong, Jet. Is that what you wanted to hear? I was wrong."

Like a balloon deflating, Jet's heaving chest slowed, his eyes and shoulders relaxing.

"... I knew it," he said, scoffing under his breath. He took a step back while Katara ducked her head and hid the shaking breath she inhaled to calm herself.

"Tomorrow morning I'm taking another away team down to the surface. Since you always insist on us taking a medic, be prepared to leave at oh-seven hundred hours on the auxiliary transporter pad," said Jet, releasing Katara's sides.

"Are there any particular—"

"Just be ready," he said, stepping back and walking away.

Katara waited for the curtain to shift aside again, then for the sick bay doors to whoosh open and shut, leaving her alone with her patient once more.

It was only then that she noticed the way the supine man was stroking the sensitive skin of her inner forearm with his thumb and fingers to calm her trembling.

"It's okay. He's like that," she said, and immediately berated herself, mentally, for making excuses for him. "No, wait… just…"

She sighed.

Then she stretched her neck, rolling her head to the side and releasing her patient.

"Come on."

She stepped back and led him to stand.

"I don't trust him or his 'security team'. You'll sleep in my quarters tonight where I have a bit of protection to offer, at least," she said. Aang would protect her. Hopefully that protection would extend to her new 'guest'.

Once more she looked up at his naked chest and the ghoulish black eyeholes of his blue mask. Her smile was wry and tired.

"Let me see if I can find you a uniform to wear, at least…"

* * *

 **AN: Part 1 of 2. Part 2 posted later this weekend or week, depending on my free time! (This was written for a very dear friend of mine who requested some Zutara and a love triangle.)**


	2. Chapter 2

Refusing to be separated from his mask, Katara helped her patient—she really needed to learn his name—fix the mask to his side with the help of an altered tricorder pouch. Beneath his mask he'd been wearing a black sleeve over his head, concealing his face. The only uniform she'd been able to find was an old one, and at least two sizes too small for him. He could barely squeeze into it and she almost felt bad for offering it to him, but it was better than trying to sneak around with him shirtless.

Katara's brow arched and she shook her head.

"It's late, there'll be fewer crew around," she said to herself aloud.

Her quarters weren't far from from the sick bay, at any rate, and they soon snuck through her door. While he leaned on her a bit when they paused, checking around corners, he was swift, silent and graceful in his movements. Katara was impressed. His ease of movement, in spite of his injuries, spoke of long hours of training and experience.

The door whooshed shut behind them, and Katara locked it manually from the panel inside her room.

"Keep an eye out for us, Aang. We need a little extra vigilance tonight," she said softly, patting the smooth wall panel.

When a blip in the display caused a smiley face to flash at her, she grinned.

Then she turned and looked at only the second man she'd ever invited into her quarters.

He was taller than she'd initially realized, seeing him standing there. And built like the fabled warriors of the Agni Kai, with strong shoulders, yet a lean, lithe frame.

His hands were callused from hand-to-hand combat, she'd bet, though Jet hadn't mentioned confiscating any weapons. If he had, he would have been walking around with them, flaunting them as spoils.

She wondered what the man before her looked like beneath his head covering.

"How is your throat?" she asked, taking half a step closer.

The man watched her, saying nothing, but nodded.

Katara folded her arms across her front.

"Do you have a name?"

He nodded, but slowly, almost reluctantly.

She looked at him expectantly.

She sighed, remembering the mask at his side.

"How about I call you Blue, for now?" she suggested.

He nodded more readily.

Her shoulders relaxed as she smiled at him.

"Good enough," she said. She looked around her small quarters. Then back at the door again.

"Normally I don't bring anyone back here," she said, gesturing for him to follow her. "But tonight, you're staying with me. Lie down, keep your hands to yourself, and tomorrow we'll… figure something out," she said, yawning.

"I'm going to change in the bathroom. Get settled. Replicator's by the window if you're hungry. I warn you the Agni Kai Special is only special for its lack of authenticity. The hot chocolate isn't bad, though, once you jimmy the overrides," she said, collecting her toiletries and pyjamas. "Back in a few minutes."

With that she left for her shower, returning half an hour later to find Blue laid out on some blankets on the floor. The uniform shirt had been discarded and laid across a seat across the room, revealing his scarred and sculpted torso once more.

Many quality hours of training, she decided, and was both grateful and annoyed that she couldn't appreciate his physique from a feminine perspective due to her exhaustion. And ethics. Mostly exhaustion, she admitted to herself.

"On the bed," she sighed, her fatigue from the day getting to her. "I'm not healing general backaches."

He looked up at her quickly before looking at the bed.

"There's plenty of room," she said, turning her back to him as she lay down. "For the record, any snoring or drooling is a matter kept strictly between the two of us. No running your mouth," she teased.

She heard him snort before she felt the warmth of him dipping the bed beside her.

He touched the sensor that turned off the light, casting them into darkness lit only by the glow of the ship's thrusters from outside the window.

"Goodnight," said Katara.

The pillow beside hers moved, and she guessed he was nodding again.

To her troubled relief, she fell asleep quickly.

* * *

Blue was still and silent as a ghost in Katara's bed when she left the next morning to reach the transporter pad.

Jet was waiting for her. Outside the white noise the engines emitted with their comforting hum, the room was eerily silent.

"Where are the others?" she asked, looking around. They were alone.

"I already sent them down to make sure it was safe."

Her stomach twisted with unease at his words. She hadn't heard anyone while she'd approached this deck.

"We're late. Hurry up," Jet ordered. "I already put the commands in," he added when she looked at the empty controller panel. No one manned it.

Katara looked up at him, and back at the empty spot beside him on the transporter pad.

He narrowed his eyes.

Her instincts screamed that this was a trick, but she had no proof. Nothing to show that there was something wrong… but her nerves were on fire.

At least Blue was safe back in her room.

Perhaps she could gather some clues about him from the surface.

And she could hold her own against Jet, at least.

She lifted her chin and climbed up beside him, folding her arms behind her as she stared straight ahead.

"Energize," said Jet.

—Katara just made out the smug tone of his voice, the smirk she knew must be on his face, when the transporter room phased out and she landed on the surprisingly level surface of the planet.

She was looking around, surprised to find herself surrounded by tall stone monoliths, when she felt the sudden strike the back of her head.

"Did you think I didn't know where you stashed him?"

Jet's voice barely filtered through the stars she saw before everything went dark.

* * *

"Override: Captain's Order: Security Team Aloe: Code 201."

There was a pause before the doors opened with a whoom-whoosh.

Smellerbee lifted her phaser as she proceeded into Doctor Kuruk's private quarters.

"Move it, Longshot," she murmured, dark eyes sweeping the darkened room from one side to another. "And don't forget, he was fast and quiet."

He met her side while Pipsqueak and Sneers brought up the rear.

The door shut behind them, sealing them in.

"You're sure he was here?" whispered Pipsqueak.

Smellerbee nodded.

"He wasn't in the sick bay, and an engineer mentioned seeing someone tall and male entering these rooms with Doctor Kuruk late last night," she said, sweeping her phaser around in front of her as she advanced through the room.

Smellerbee held up her hand, flipping through the different settings on her phaser and scanning the room again.

"I coulda sworn…" she whispered, staring at the screen.

"What?" asked Sneers.

Smellerbee's shaggy bangs hid her eyes.

"The computer assured us there was still a humanoid-type thermal signature in here," she said stubbornly.

Longshot checked his own phaser.

Like Smellerbee's, it now showed only four signatures. Theirs.

"Computer," called Pipsqueak. "How many people are in Doctor Kuruk's quarters?"

"Four, lieutenant," answered the light voice of the AI system.

Smellerbee's eyes narrowed.

"Computer," she called. "How many people slept in Doctor Kuruk's quarters quarters last night?"

"One, lieutenant," answered the AI.

The Security Team looked at each other.

"Then where is he?" asked Sneers, phaser lowering.

"Computer, where is the prisoner that was captured on the last away mission?"

"She is on the surface of the nearest planet, unconscious, lieutenant."

Longshot straightened, brows drawing together.

"Computer. Repeat," he said, paying careful attention.

"The prisoner that was captured, Doctor Kuruk, is on the surface of the nearest planet, unconscious."

"He escaped!" cried Smellerbee.

"Computer, where is the Captain?" asked Longshot, his voice suspicious but calm.

"On the surface with Doctor Kuruk, lieutenant."

The four officers looked at each other. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he planned on leaving that morning.

"Was she… trying to run away with the prisoner?" asked Sneers, confused.

"And the Captain went after them?" theorized Pipsqueak, shrugging his shoulders.

Longshot tapped the communicator badge on his chest.

"Duke?"

"Yeah, Longshot?" answered The Duke from the main bridge.

"Did the Captain talk to you this morning? About his plans for the day," asked Longshot.

"Only that he had some personal business to take care of, and he'd be back when he was done. That was around oh-six hundred hours."

"Has there been any contact since?" asked Longshot.

"Uh… no, actually. That was a few hours ago. Shall I hail him?"

"No," said Longshot. "Out."

He tapped his communicator, and it chirped off.

Longshot let out a heavy breath through his nose.

While the leader of their team, Smellerbee looked up at Longshot for his thoughts.

He shook his head.

"Computer," he called a last time. "Who went down to the surface?"

"Captain Jet and Doctor Kuruk, lieutenant."

Longshot looked at Smellerbee.

"Computer, was there anyone else there?"

"No, lieutenant."

Longshot looked at Smellerbee harder.

Smellerbee held his stare a long moment before she grunted and turned away.

"Smellerbee," said Longshot.

"Come on, we need to find that Agni Kai," she said. "The Dragon of the West is still out there, circling this system."

The door whooshed shut behind them, the lock resetting itself.

From the wall compartment hidden in the panelling, another, smaller airlock released and Blue unfolded himself and rolled out onto the floor. He landed lightly on his feet, if with a small grunt at being confined and curled up for so long.

"Thank you," he murmured with his hoarse voice, touching the side panel as Katara had done.

Aang gave a lackluster blip of acknowledgement.

* * *

The Duke glanced ahead of him from the first mate's seat, noting the beeping from the ensign's panel.

It had been hours, now, and the Captain was still missing, located somewhere on the surface of the planet

"We're being hailed by the Dragon of the West," said the ensign. "Do we engage?"

"Open a channel," said the Duke, though he gripped his trousers a bit tighter on his thighs.

The main screen flickered to the interior of the Agni Kai main bridge, and a full staff of military-trained soldiers surrounded the Dragon of the West.

"This is the Federation starship _Avatar_ ," greeted the Duke. He swallowed. "First mate, uh, Duke speaking... How can I help you?"

"Oh, hello there, Mr Duke," said General Iroh from the Agni Kai ship. "You don't by any chance have my nephew aboard, do you?"

The Duke's mouth dried up in an instant.

"Of-of course not, sir!"

Iroh's eyes widened as he smiled. "Oh, that's funny—"

From behind the Duke, one of the _Avatar's_ engineers gasped and called out, "Sir, one of the transporters is active and beaming someone from the _Avatar_ over to—"

"—because he just sent us a message that we needed to come collect him," continued General Iroh affably. His hands were folded over his belly, his military uniform in impeccable style and condition.

He smiled at the Duke warmly.

"...That would be him now."

* * *

Katara woke up groggy and disoriented, staring at the rocky walls that surrounded her.

"Finally coming around?"

Warm hands collected Katara and wrapped her snugly against a firm, fit male frame. Soon they lifted her up and began walking.

"Jet?" mumbled Katara, squinting in the darkness.

"Shhhh," murmured Jet. "It won't be long now."

"Hnn?"

"We're almost there."

His voice was a soft croon, loving and tender.

It immediately sent Katara into a panic. She tried to push him away only to find her arms and legs bound.

"Jet," she gasped, wincing at the terrible headache that pounded in her skull. It was hard to focus, but she summoned some of her healing magic to dull the pain. "What's going on?"

"I realized something aboard the Avatar, Katara," said Jet, climbing deeper into the cave. "I realized… that the ship protects you. That's why I haven't been able to get into your quarters, even though I'm the captain."

"It's probably a programming thing," said Katara, struggling to free a hand or foot or knee. "Put me down, Jet."

"I only want to keep you safe," he continued, winding down a tunnel. "Did you know that not only did the ship computer stop me from entering your room, it also lied about you having company." His voice lowered, taking on an edge. "I don't like it when you lie to me, Katara."

"I didn't lie about having company—what are you—"

"I saw you last night, Katara. You invited him into your room. You invited him into your bed."

The blood froze in Katara's veins.

"You've been spying on me," she whispered, her stomach clenching. "You've been watching me in my personal quarters."

"You shouldn't have lied to me, Katara," growled Jet, holding her closer to him. "I can't protect you if you lie to me. But I've found a way to stop you from lying, and protect you and keep you for myself. No one will ever bother us again, here."

Katara's heart was racing, the fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck raised from the electric fear travelling down her spine.

"We need to go back to the ship," she said, trying to find her voice. "Jet, I have patients I need to look after. We have families aboard that ship who rely on me, on us, to look after them. It's our home. We have—"

"This is your new home, Katara," said Jet, setting her down on a soft, if lumpy surface.

The air _oophed_ from Katara's lungs as she fell into Jet's side when he took a seat beside her.

"Is this… inflated…" Katara's voice trailed off as she looked around the cavernous opening. Lights glowed on around them, and her eyes widened.

There were packages, crates of supplies, food, bedding, water. Several reinforced conveyance trunks on another side of the cavern were labelled with things like, 'sanitation', 'medical supplies', 'clothing' and… 'infant care'...

Too shocked to realize Jet was still focused on her, Katara missed it when he laced a metallic bracelet around her wrist and sealed it—until she heard the click and noted the way the lights in the cave flashed red-red-green.

"There. You're secure, now. I need to return to the ship, but I just want you to know that you'll be safe here. I'll be back after you've had some time to consider your actions—"

But Katara had no intention of 'considering her actions'.

Her heart in her throat, and her blue eyes burning, she leaned close to Jet's chest, as if to rest against him—

—then launched herself at him with murderous intent.

* * *

"This way," said General Iroh, only for a blue-masked, black shadow to overtake him, rushing forward.

The General sighed and hastened his pace.

The sound of shouting soon met his away party, and they stumbled upon their newly returned and still injured Prince leading a heavy barrage of strikes against the captain of the _Avatar_.

Trapped by a containment band, a woman with long dark hair and fierce blue eyes beat against an invisible force field, screaming to be released.

"Sir… this looks to be a domestic dispute," said the soldier from behind Iroh's soldier.

"I believe it is a kidnapping," clarified Iroh, raising a hand. "See to the young lady, first."

He paused, cupping his chin before his savvy gaze turned towards the pair of male combattants.

"And then point her at those two."

"But sir, the Prince—"

Iroh smiled.

"Just watch."

* * *

 **(Several months later, aboard the Federation Space Station** _ **Ba Sing Se**_ **)**

"—and then she got medieval on his sorry—"

"Sokka!"

"—but since there were so many witnesses, she skipped right through the court martialing and was in fact given a reward for assisting with his arrest and incarceration!"

Katara sighed as she gave a sheepish grin at her brother and friends on the group communication.

In her private quarters back aboard the _Avatar_ , she finally had some time to herself and was gratefully catching up with her friends. Well, mostly gratefully. Her brother, an engineer on an exchange with the Agni Kai (he'd seized the opportunity when it was offered, a good-faith gesture from the Agni Kai after their assistance with Jet's capture), was exaggerating things. Again.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed," said Toph, picking at her toes as she reclined on her bunk. While the heiress ran her own shipping conglomerate, she moonlighted on the side for… other industries that Katara tried not to hear too much about. "I knew something was up when we stopped hearing from you."

"I'm just glad that you're okay," said Suki from another direction. "We were really worried about you."

Katara smiled, her shoulders relaxing.

"I'm lucky the Agni Kai were so close. I don't think anyone from the _Avatar_ would have helped," she said honestly. It still felt awkward to be on the ship, even with it being under new command.

Luckily, she and Captain Jun got along great, even if Jun sometimes seemed a little unorthodox. For one thing, she had an incredibly unusual personal ship she kept in the docking station. She mentioned she used it to track down errant crew. Katara had smiled and laughed and turned in early that night, resolving to never get on Jun's bad side, just in case.

"Speaking of, did you ever track down that patient of yours to make sure he was okay?" asked Toph.

Katara's shoulders slumped.

"No. I never saw him again. It's weird, though."

"What's weird?" asked Suki.

Katara shook her head. "I know that things were dark in the cavern on the planet's surface, obviously, and that with the fighting and how much I was yelling, I don't remember everything all that well—"

"—and the concussions," added Sokka.

Katara glared at him a moment for interrupting her, then continued.

"But I could have sworn I saw him down in the cavern at the end, fighting Jet. Wearing his mask, I mean. But General Iroh swears that there were only members of his crew there. No 'mystical blue spirit'."

Katara sighed.

"I just wanted to know if he was okay," she said, pouting.

"And if he was hot under his mask."

"Toph!"

"Don't even try to deny it," said Toph, flicking away some toe jam. It landed dangerously close to the monitor transmitting her image, and even Sokka shuddered.

"Ahem!" coughed Katara, trying and failing to calm her flushed cheeks. "It is my estimation that he was an Agni Kai soldier or crewman, and he made use of the distraction happening on the surface to escape."

"No love letter left under your pillow?" teased Toph

"Of course not," scoffed Katara, still secretly disappointed.

"Well, uh, speaking of Agni Kai soldiers, I kind of wanted everyone to meet my new buddy!" broke in Sokka.

He moved off-camera for a moment before there were the vague sounds of a scuffle. Then a chair fell over. And some papers slid off a desk.

"—would you just get over here!"

The group vaguely made out Sokka's grunted pleading before he shoved a new face down in front of his monitor.

A very handsome face.

A very handsome, yet very scarred face.

Katara swallowed.

"Everybody, meet Zuko!" cheered Sokka. It would have sounded more genuine if he wasn't panting. And if his death grip on Zuko's shoulder made less of an indent on the man's fancy military uniform.

"Uh, hi… Zuko here," he said awkwardly, attempting to tug his shoulder out of Sokka's grip. He looked behind him and glared at Sokka, who ignored him and leaned over to wink at the camera.

"Zuko came to introduce himself to me when I was eating lunch. He's actually the Crown Prince of the Agni Kai, but don't let that fool you. He's actually not too full of himself."

"Sokka," hissed Katara, even as Suki sighed and Toph cackled. "Would you please mind your manners!" She refocused her attention on the newcomer. "Sorry, he doesn't always plan the route the words take from his brain to his mouth," she said.

"I got that impression," admitted Zuko, staring into the monitor intently. His voice was low and a bit rough in places.

Something twigged in Katara's memory, but she ignored it.

"Oh Katara, you'll never believe it, but Zuko knows Water Tribe customs!" broke in Sokka, completely unphased by everyone's criticisms.

"You do?" asked Katara.

"Clasped my arm like a clansman when we first met," enthused Sokka, smacking Zuko on the back.

Katara's heart skipped a beat.

"Where did you learn that?" asked Suki.

"My uncle—"

"General Iroh," interrupted Sokka.

"—travelled a great deal in his younger days. He taught me many of the customs he learned. He is a strong believer in forging relationships rather than conflict," explained Zuko.

"Oh, Katara, you should describe your mystery beau to Zuko. He may know who it was! What did you call him? Blue?"

"He was a patient, not a… oh whatever," sighed Katara, embarrassed beyond belief that her brother was using the Agni Kai royal family in order to help her seuss out her saviour. Though, in a way, it was kind of Sokka to help her.

For, yes, she had seen Blue as her saviour. She would never have been able to escape Jet permanently without his help.

"It's… it's a long story, but I was wondering if any of your crew were stranded on the surface of the planet where I was… uh… found," explained Katara, rubbing her arm.

"None of the crew, no," said Zuko. "I… I know someone was investigating a distress call that emanated from that sector. They assumed it was coming from the surface, but it was later traced back to the _Avatar_."

"The _Avatar_ was sending out a disguised distress call?" asked Toph, pausing in her toe-picking.

"We couldn't figure out who it was who sent it. There was no record of it in the _Avatar's_ logs," said Zuko.

A funny feeling tickled Katara's insides. She glanced sideways, spying around her room for anything out of the ordinary.

The lights in the nearby comm panel lit up in a smiley face for a moment, before switching to a wink.

Her eyes widened to saucers.

"What was the distress signal?" asked Katara, voice tight.

"Huh?" asked Zuko.

"The distress signal," demanded Katara. "What was it?"

"Oh, uh…" Zuko's cheeks flushed as he looked away.

Then he rubbed the back of his head, his loose hair falling forward to hide his face.

Katara found ridiculously endearing.

"Something about a princess needing to be rescued from her crazy captor… We didn't take it seriously at first, but then I talked to Uncle, and we thought it wouldn't hurt for someone to at least check it out," said Zuko, clearly flustered. "Theremayhavebeenapictureofyou."

"Wait wait wait, a picture?" Katara turned to glare at the comm panel, which was suddenly silent and innocent.

"Uh, I have to go do the thing, so I'm going to sign off now," said Toph as Katara's anger built.

"Sokka, I'll call you later this week," said Suki with a wink.

"Promise?!" begged Sokka, shoving Zuko to the side. "I can talk to you now? I'll go to the other room, meet me on the other channel!"

With that he disappeared, as did Toph and Suki.

Which left Katara and Zuko together on the channel.

It was silent and awkward as they looked at each other.

Zuko cleared his throat.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, much better."

He nodded.

"That's good. I guess with you being a doctor, you'd be able to heal yourself, too," he said.

Katara's fingers tapped her knee.

"How did you know I was a doctor?"

Zuko tensed. "Uh, your brother mentioned it."

"Oh."

She stared at him. There was something so familiar about him, but what was it…

"Did… uh… so… that patient… did he really not leave you a thank you note?"

Katara's brows knit. Her brother obviously needed a reminder to keep their talks private.

"No. I just hope he got home safely," sighed Katara, repeating what she'd said earlier.

"Really?" asked Zuko, surprising her.

Katara paused.

"I mean, because, if it had been me, I would have… left you a note. In a safe place. Where only you would find it," he said, speaking in spurts.

"Well, there wasn't anything left out when I got back… And nothing came up for evidence during the pre-trial," said Katara slowly.

"Damnit, Aang," muttered Zuko under his breath, looking suddenly frustrated.

"Aang?" repeated Katara.

Zuko froze.

Katara's heart skipped a beat.

"Where?" she breathed, her emotions feeling like they were about to short-circuit.

Zuko's eyes were wide as he swallowed and looked to the side.

"Aang," growled Katara, and the illuminated panel beside her dimmed before her hidey-hole in the wall popped open a second later.

"It was you," whispered Katara, looking between the open wall panel and Zuko.

He rubbed at the back of his neck.

"You were in trouble," he said.

"You nearly got killed because of me. You'd never met me," she said, shaking her head.

To her surprise, he flushed again before meeting her gaze with a small smirk.

"It was worth it."

His words had her blushing, that time.

He peeked behind her and gestured with his chin.

"The panel," he said.

Biting her tongue on all the ways she intended to tell him off later—he had saved her, after all—she turned to the panel and looked inside.

A piece of paper, parchment, really, lay inside, folded into an origami lily.

"That's a fire lily," he explained as she cradled it in her palm. "They're native to the Agni Kai home planetary system. What's left of it."

"It's beautiful," said Katara.

Zuko's grin was a bit crooked as he smiled at her.

"There's a message inside," he said.

"I'd have to unfold it?" she asked, her tone mournful. She touched one of the petals. The rich paper flexed and returned to its shape. She didn't have the heart to dismantle it.

"You… you really like it?"

"Of course I do!"

"I'll make you a new one," he said. "You can open that one."

Glancing up at him, Katara looked for a loose edge before slowly unfolding the lily.

Her smile wavered as her eyes swam.

" _The princess rescued the prince, and he owes her a life debt in thanks,_ " she read. She looked up. "But, you don't. You saved my life, too. We're even."

"I still owe you a new flower," he said tentatively.

Looking down and feeling the rich parchment between her fingers, Katara smoothed her thumb over the words.

"You do," she agreed.

"I'll be in your ship's vicinity in a few days," he said off-hand, but watching her reaction carefully, cheeks warm.

"Perhaps we should get together. Without my brother," said Katara meaningfully.

Zuko's smile was shy and genuine, and Katara felt butterflies erupt in her tummy as his eyes lit up.

"I'd like that," he said.

"Then, it's a date," agreed Katara, smiling back widely.

"Finally!" groaned Toph, her voice coming through loud and clear.

"What?!" Katara looked around the different portions of the screen, but only hers and Zuko's were active.

"Oh, we were all listening in from Sokka's other line," explained Toph, keeping her video muted.

Zuko had paled before dropping his head in his hands.

"Moral support!" called Sokka from the other line. "By the way, Zuko, nice job. And yes, you can date my sister. Nothing under her clothes and have her back by nine. Maybe eight thirty."

Katara's rage built until she unleashed it using language her father had forbidden her from ever repeating.

(But at the end of the call she and Zuko had set a time and place and he promised to bring her another flower. She was, for the first time since she met him in her sick bay, quite excited for the new possibilities her future presented.)

When Katara went to bed that night, she stared up at the ceiling of her quarters.

Then she reached out and pet the wall panels as she drifted off to sleep.

"Thank you, Aang."

His panel lit up with a small heart which beat for her alone.

 **THE END.**


End file.
